Uncertainty slid over the woman’s gaze as she replied, “One does not simply hand over power because a stranger demands it. This is my guild. I have earned my place.”

“Perhaps. How exactly did you earn this place?” Rezkin asked with a slight tilt of his head. His tone was knowing even though he had no idea how the woman came to be guildmaster.

The woman’s posture shifted from stiff surprise and antagonism to one of sultry arrogance. She shrugged one shoulder and swayed her hips as she said, “My late husband did not exactly know what he was getting into.”

Ah. The woman was a fraud. She married the poor noble to whom this estate belonged. She had probably duped him into thinking she was a lady, and he had likely overlooked certain flaws for the benefits of her physical attributes. Rezkin recognized that most men would see her as quite alluring, but he saw only the hidden teeth and claws. His one and only experience with a woman had been quite effective in curing him of the fatal weakness men had toward women, especially women like this. Actually, this woman reminded him quite a bit of that other woman.

He scoffed. “You take a noble House and waste its resources on common thievery. Simple plans for simple minds,” he mused. He plucked a parchment off the desk and read the signature at the bottom: Lady Hilith Gadderand. He performed a quick mental search through the seemingly endless lists of houses he had memorized. Gadderand was a minor offshoot, by several generations, of House Ruolt, which held a countship under the authority of Duke Darning. Gadderand held no lands of its own but obviously had enough wealth to maintain an estate in the capital city of Kaibain, the Seat of the King.

“I’ll have you know it’s not easy getting into a noble house,” Hilith replied. “Those who recognize true talent commend my accomplishments,” she said with a proud lift of her chin.

Rezkin was out of his seat and across the room faster than either could react. He stood before the woman and gripped her jaw firmly in his right hand as he gazed at her from the shadow of his cowl. His left hand held a thin knife, the tip resting just under her partner’s ribs. The woman’s startled eyes stared into the shadowed recess trying to catch a glimpse of his face and understand what was happening.